Martin Luther King Jr. Day! We know MLK as one of the most inspiring and impactful leaders of modern times. He was also a huge Star Trek fan. In fact, it was the only TV show he and his wife Coretta allowed their children to watch—because it showed black and white characters working together as equals on the crew of the Enterprise. But King was more than just a fan; he saved Lieutenant Uhura. After the first season, the African-American actress who played Lieutenant Uhura (Nichelle Nichols) told the producers she was leaving the show. That weekend she attended a NAACP fundraiser, and was told a "superfan" wanted to meet her. It was Martin Luther King, Jr. When he found out she was leaving the show, he told her she couldn't. It was simply too important to the Civil Rights movement, because Lieutenant Uhura had "opened a door for the world to see" African Americans as capable contributors and leaders. Nichols stayed, appearing in over 60 more TV episodes and the first six movies. Whoopi Goldberg and Ronald McNair, the second African-American in space, are among many who credited Lieutenant Uhura with first showing them a future where blacks and whites could work as equals. "Momma," Goldberg remembers saying when she first saw Star Trek, "there's a black lady on TV and she ain't no maid!" Here's to hoping that MLK's ideals live long and prosper.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day! We know MLK as one of the most inspiring and impactful leaders of modern times. He was also a huge Star Trek fan. In fact, it was the only TV show he and his wife Coretta allowed their children to watch—because it showed black and white characters working together as equals on the crew of the Enterprise. But King was more than just a fan; he saved Lieutenant Uhura. After the first season, the African-American actress who played Lieutenant Uhura (Nichelle Nichols) told the producers she was leaving the show. That weekend she attended a NAACP fundraiser, and was told a "superfan" wanted to meet her. It was Martin Luther King, Jr. When he found out she was leaving the show, he told her she couldn't. It was simply too important to the Civil Rights movement, because Lieutenant Uhura had "opened a door for the world to see" African Americans as capable contributors and leaders. Nichols stayed, appearing in over 60 more TV episodes and the first six movies. Whoopi Goldberg and Ronald McNair, the second African-American in space, are among many who credited Lieutenant Uhura with first showing them a future where blacks and whites could work as equals. "Momma," Goldberg remembers saying when she first saw Star Trek, "there's a black lady on TV and she ain't no maid!" Here's to hoping that MLK's ideals live long and prosper.

Who needs to paint the roses red when these psychedelic flowers exist? Belaurian photographer Slava Semeniuta (known as Local Preacher online) is a self-professed lover of neon, and in his latest series Granular Creatures, he quite literally sheds new light on blooming subjects. To capture these otherworldly subjects, Semeniuta placed them under ultraviolet light and used a macro lens to get extreme close-ups. The results in the above photo show a rainbow of light colors refracted off of what looks like a stamen, or a flower's central pollen-producing organ. While we may marvel at the luminescence, ultraviolet-radiant flora have evolutionary benefits: bees can see ultraviolet, blue, and green light, making pollination a much easier job when their food gives off good lighting. Seems food presentation isn't just a thing emphasized at fancy restaurants!

Who needs to paint the roses red when these psychedelic flowers exist? Belaurian photographer Slava Semeniuta (known as Local Preacher online) is a self-professed lover of neon, and in his latest series Granular Creatures, he quite literally sheds new light on blooming subjects. To capture these otherworldly subjects, Semeniuta placed them under ultraviolet light and used a macro lens to get extreme close-ups. The results in the above photo show a rainbow of light colors refracted off of what looks like a stamen, or a flower's central pollen-producing organ. While we may marvel at the luminescence, ultraviolet-radiant flora have evolutionary benefits: bees can see ultraviolet, blue, and green light, making pollination a much easier job when their food gives off good lighting. Seems food presentation isn't just a thing emphasized at fancy restaurants!

In the world of jazz singing, no one ever threw shade at a cheating lover quite like Nancy Wilson did, especially in her 1960 hit version of Guess Who I Saw Today. Wilson, who passed away just last month at the age of 81, mustered all of her smooth-voiced tenderness—learned from her heroes, Dinah Washington and Nat "King" Cole—to lyrics which increasingly reveal a narrator righteously losing her composure. The performance was a breakthrough for Wilson, who enjoyed a 60-year career as a jazz singer with popular appeal, winning Jazz, R&B, and Pop Vocal Grammys, as well as an NEA "Jazz Masters Fellowship" endowment. She even won a Peabody award as the voice and historian of NPR's Jazz Profiles. In music, it seemed like there was nothing outside of Wilson's reach—which didn't bode well for the cheating partner in Guess Who I Saw Today, who clearly underestimated her capabilities!

In the world of jazz singing, no one ever threw shade at a cheating lover quite like Nancy Wilson did, especially in her 1960 hit version of Guess Who I Saw Today. Wilson, who passed away just last month at the age of 81, mustered all of her smooth-voiced tenderness—learned from her heroes, Dinah Washington and Nat "King" Cole—to lyrics which increasingly reveal a narrator righteously losing her composure. The performance was a breakthrough for Wilson, who enjoyed a 60-year career as a jazz singer with popular appeal, winning Jazz, R&B, and Pop Vocal Grammys, as well as an NEA "Jazz Masters Fellowship" endowment. She even won a Peabody award as the voice and historian of NPR's Jazz Profiles. In music, it seemed like there was nothing outside of Wilson's reach—which didn't bode well for the cheating partner in Guess Who I Saw Today, who clearly underestimated her capabilities!

For some of us, the 84th anniversary of canned beer this week is an opportunity to pop open a cold one and make "hold my beer" jokes. For artist Alice Hope, it's a chance to take tabs on her creative process. This untitled piece features wheels made from can tabs, and is just one example of Hope's ability to transform small objects into grand sculptures with surprising textures. Hope got the idea when she happened upon approximately 700 pounds of can tabs in a recycling bin—likely just waiting there for a heavy metal artist such as herself to make the most of the materials. When she isn't connecting aluminum can tabs into reflective metal tubing, Hope works with steel and ferrite magnets to create hair-raising canvases. She has even programmed code into moving machinery installations. Industry, waste, and renewal are all themes of her recycled art, though the can tabs are specifically "[emblematic] of consumption, desire, and the urban myth." And here we thought it was just hops, grains, yeast, and water swirling around in those cans.

Below: a closer view of the aluminum can tab texture from Alice Hope's art.

For some of us, the 84th anniversary of canned beer this week is an opportunity to pop open a cold one and make "hold my beer" jokes. For artist Alice Hope, it's a chance to take tabs on her creative process. This untitled piece features wheels made from can tabs, and is just one example of Hope's ability to transform small objects into grand sculptures with surprising textures. Hope got the idea when she happened upon approximately 700 pounds of can tabs in a recycling bin—likely just waiting there for a heavy metal artist such as herself to make the most of the materials. When she isn't connecting aluminum can tabs into reflective metal tubing, Hope works with steel and ferrite magnets to create hair-raising canvases. She has even programmed code into moving machinery installations. Industry, waste, and renewal are all themes of her recycled art, though the can tabs are specifically "[emblematic] of consumption, desire, and the urban myth." And here we thought it was just hops, grains, yeast, and water swirling around in those cans.

Below: a closer view of the aluminum can tab texture from Alice Hope's art.

Over 60 Americans find themselves at the mercy of Iran's militant Ayatollah Khomeini.

The final straw is often something (relatively) trivial. President Jimmy Carter learned this cutting lesson on January 20, 1981: the day the Iran hostage crisis finally concluded. The 444-day ordeal, in which 66 Americans were abducted from Iran's American embassy by revolutionary Islamists, resulted in Carter losing the 1980 election. Caused by a seemingly innocuous humanitarian decision, it resolved just hours after his successor President Ronald Reagan was sworn into office.

But the roots of the conflict lie in the Western corporations that had long controlled Iran's petroleum reserves, rather than Carter. In 1951, Iran elected a European-educated nationalist named Mohammad Mossadegh as its prime minister. Mossadegh planned to nationalize his homeland's oil industry, but the C.I.A. and the British intelligence service quickly deposed and replaced him with the pro-Western Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi.

Unfortunately, the Shah was a brutal, impetuous man. He tortured and murdered thousands until the Iranian people overthrew him in the '70s and elected radical Islamic cleric Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini as their new leader. The Shah, sick with cancer, was permanently exiled and left for dead. But on October 22, 1979, President Jimmy Carter extended the olive branch, admitting the former despot into the U.S. for medical treatment. Naturally, Iranians were bristling.

Soon after the Shah reached New York, pro-Ayatollah students stormed the U.S. embassy in Iran's capital of Tehran, seizing 66 hostages. The Ayatollah lauded the student's aggression and sought to exploit the publicity and exercise his new leadership on cable TV. Days later, he had his followers released 13 hostages—all of them women and African Americans—who Khomeini claimed were already victims of "the oppression of American society." Meanwhile, the American public demanded Carter take action.

The president quickly cut diplomatic ties with Iran, and talks of sanctions arose. As the hostages were blindfolded, paraded around, and generally denied the right to change clothes, Carter set in motion Operation Eagle Claw. An elite rescue team was meant to extract the remaining hostages, but the mission royally backfired. A fearsome sandstorm caused technical malfunctions; a helicopter collided with a transport plane upon takeoff, resulting in the deaths of eight American servicemen.

Ronald Reagan, who was running against Carter in the 1980 presidential election, pointed the finger of blame at his opponent. Either way, he had it made; Carter was so mired in damage control, he shirked his campaign duties and lost the race in a landslide. To really rub salt in Carter's wound, the Ayatollah released the remaining hostages just hours after Reagan's inaugural address. Politicians—they can be as petty as middle schoolers!

Over 60 Americans find themselves at the mercy of Iran's militant Ayatollah Khomeini.

The final straw is often something (relatively) trivial. President Jimmy Carter learned this cutting lesson on January 20, 1981: the day the Iran hostage crisis finally concluded. The 444-day ordeal, in which 66 Americans were abducted from Iran's American embassy by revolutionary Islamists, resulted in Carter losing the 1980 election. Caused by a seemingly innocuous humanitarian decision, it resolved just hours after his successor President Ronald Reagan was sworn into office.

But the roots of the conflict lie in the Western corporations that had long controlled Iran's petroleum reserves, rather than Carter. In 1951, Iran elected a European-educated nationalist named Mohammad Mossadegh as its prime minister. Mossadegh planned to nationalize his homeland's oil industry, but the C.I.A. and the British intelligence service quickly deposed and replaced him with the pro-Western Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi.

Unfortunately, the Shah was a brutal, impetuous man. He tortured and murdered thousands until the Iranian people overthrew him in the '70s and elected radical Islamic cleric Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini as their new leader. The Shah, sick with cancer, was permanently exiled and left for dead. But on October 22, 1979, President Jimmy Carter extended the olive branch, admitting the former despot into the U.S. for medical treatment. Naturally, Iranians were bristling.

Soon after the Shah reached New York, pro-Ayatollah students stormed the U.S. embassy in Iran's capital of Tehran, seizing 66 hostages. The Ayatollah lauded the student's aggression and sought to exploit the publicity and exercise his new leadership on cable TV. Days later, he had his followers released 13 hostages—all of them women and African Americans—who Khomeini claimed were already victims of "the oppression of American society." Meanwhile, the American public demanded Carter take action.

The president quickly cut diplomatic ties with Iran, and talks of sanctions arose. As the hostages were blindfolded, paraded around, and generally denied the right to change clothes, Carter set in motion Operation Eagle Claw. An elite rescue team was meant to extract the remaining hostages, but the mission royally backfired. A fearsome sandstorm caused technical malfunctions; a helicopter collided with a transport plane upon takeoff, resulting in the deaths of eight American servicemen.

Ronald Reagan, who was running against Carter in the 1980 presidential election, pointed the finger of blame at his opponent. Either way, he had it made; Carter was so mired in damage control, he shirked his campaign duties and lost the race in a landslide. To really rub salt in Carter's wound, the Ayatollah released the remaining hostages just hours after Reagan's inaugural address. Politicians—they can be as petty as middle schoolers!

Image credit & copyright: Express / Getty Images

January 19, 2019

This Teaser is not so scary, Mary. We know you're still very wary. But it's unnecessary to find sanctuary in a monastery, or even a commissary. Any fear you carry is momentary. All the words are ordinary, known to every secretary, actuary, or emissary, though likely nary a solitary cassowary or hairy dromedary. So unbury your planetary stationery, sit among the statuary in the aviary, and solve this Teaser.

This is an ordinary 6-letter English word.

(The original word) Finding everything scary.
(Take off the first letter) It's famously scary, to the literary.
(Take off the first and last letter) Call something extraordinary.
(Take off the last letter) Want more than customary.

What's the original word?

Think you know the answer? Email support@curious.com with the subject "Teaser #170" and let us know, or check back next week to find out!

This Teaser is not so scary, Mary. We know you're still very wary. But it's unnecessary to find sanctuary in a monastery, or even a commissary. Any fear you carry is momentary. All the words are ordinary, known to every secretary, actuary, or emissary, though likely nary a solitary cassowary or hairy dromedary. So unbury your planetary stationery, sit among the statuary in the aviary, and solve this Teaser.

This is an ordinary 6-letter English word.

(The original word) Finding everything scary.
(Take off the first letter) It's famously scary, to the literary.
(Take off the first and last letter) Call something extraordinary.
(Take off the last letter) Want more than customary.

What's the original word?

Think you know the answer? Email support@curious.com with the subject "Teaser #170" and let us know, or check back next week to find out!

Stax Records is responsible for countless hits—such as Sitting' on the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding, Soul Man by Sam and Dave, or I'll Take You There by the Staple Singers. But there's one thing in common with these songs besides their distributor: the Stax house band. So it's no surprise that when a few members struck out on their own, the resulting music was just as funky and soulful. Known as Booker T. & the MG's, the group consisted of drummer Al Jackson, bassist Donald "Duck" Dunn, guitarist Steve Cropper, and keyboardist Booker T. Jones. They formed more or less because of their breakthrough hit, Green Onions. The song originated as a jam between the four prior to recording a jingle session, and it went on to hit #3 on the Billboard charts when it was released. It's the only instrumental song on Rolling Stone's "500 Greatest Songs of All Time," and in 2012 it was added to the Library of Congress's National Recording Registry as a historically important piece of music. But you don't really need fancy awards to tell you how good the song is (although those are pretty sweet). Take a listen to the group playing the eternally cool groove as part of the "Stax/Volt Revue Live In Norway 1967."

Stax Records is responsible for countless hits—such as Sitting' on the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding, Soul Man by Sam and Dave, or I'll Take You There by the Staple Singers. But there's one thing in common with these songs besides their distributor: the Stax house band. So it's no surprise that when a few members struck out on their own, the resulting music was just as funky and soulful. Known as Booker T. & the MG's, the group consisted of drummer Al Jackson, bassist Donald "Duck" Dunn, guitarist Steve Cropper, and keyboardist Booker T. Jones. They formed more or less because of their breakthrough hit, Green Onions. The song originated as a jam between the four prior to recording a jingle session, and it went on to hit #3 on the Billboard charts when it was released. It's the only instrumental song on Rolling Stone's "500 Greatest Songs of All Time," and in 2012 it was added to the Library of Congress's National Recording Registry as a historically important piece of music. But you don't really need fancy awards to tell you how good the song is (although those are pretty sweet). Take a listen to the group playing the eternally cool groove as part of the "Stax/Volt Revue Live In Norway 1967."

Compensating for something? This comically large gun is not a prop, but an actual functioning weapon used in the 19th and early 20th centuries for waterfowl hunting, a popular January pastime. Though, these two are using it wrong. In practice, the 90-pound punt gun would be propped up on the bow of a one-man punt boat, with a single hunter behind the trigger. The poor ducks never stood a chance: the gun's one-pound shots could kill several dozen birds at once. Fortunately, by the time this image was snapped in 1923, the big guns and commercial waterfowl hunting had been banned in the U.S. for several years. Let's hope these two guys didn't do anything too bird-brained for the photo-op… like accidentally load the weapon.

Compensating for something? This comically large gun is not a prop, but an actual functioning weapon used in the 19th and early 20th centuries for waterfowl hunting, a popular January pastime. Though, these two are using it wrong. In practice, the 90-pound punt gun would be propped up on the bow of a one-man punt boat, with a single hunter behind the trigger. The poor ducks never stood a chance: the gun's one-pound shots could kill several dozen birds at once. Fortunately, by the time this image was snapped in 1923, the big guns and commercial waterfowl hunting had been banned in the U.S. for several years. Let's hope these two guys didn't do anything too bird-brained for the photo-op… like accidentally load the weapon.

Judging a book by its cover isn't such a bad idea in this case. Author and illustrator Blanche McManus' cover for The True Mother Goose whimsically reflects the magical and exciting tales that lie within the pages. Born on February 2, 1870, McManus studied art in Europe before opening her studio in Chicago in 1893. In her workspace, she used lithography to craft covers for many classic pieces of literature, including works by Rudyard Kipling, Alfred Lord Tennyson, and Lewis Carroll. In creating the look of the black-and-white geese and red text of Mother Goose, McManus would have used an involved lithographic process. She would first draw on limestone with a grease-based medium, then moisten the stone so the blank spaces absorbed the water. Oil-based ink would then be applied to the stone and picked up by the greasy drawing, while the water-soaked parts would repel it. Finally, a piece of paper would be pressed onto the stone, transferring the inked drawing to the page. While the process may seem laborious, McManus' results are simple yet elegant. What's good for the Mother Goose is worth a second gander!

Judging a book by its cover isn't such a bad idea in this case. Author and illustrator Blanche McManus' cover for The True Mother Goose whimsically reflects the magical and exciting tales that lie within the pages. Born on February 2, 1870, McManus studied art in Europe before opening her studio in Chicago in 1893. In her workspace, she used lithography to craft covers for many classic pieces of literature, including works by Rudyard Kipling, Alfred Lord Tennyson, and Lewis Carroll. In creating the look of the black-and-white geese and red text of Mother Goose, McManus would have used an involved lithographic process. She would first draw on limestone with a grease-based medium, then moisten the stone so the blank spaces absorbed the water. Oil-based ink would then be applied to the stone and picked up by the greasy drawing, while the water-soaked parts would repel it. Finally, a piece of paper would be pressed onto the stone, transferring the inked drawing to the page. While the process may seem laborious, McManus' results are simple yet elegant. What's good for the Mother Goose is worth a second gander!

It was recently estimated that in England and Wales alone, six million loaves of bread are fed to ducks every year. Nutritionists don't have much nice to say about humans eating bread—particularly of the white variety—and the same goes for ducks. It is packed with empty calories and acts like junk food for ducks. They eventually get addicted to it, and then have little interest in eating anything else. This not only causes malnourishment, but can also lead to a horrible and incurable condition called angel wing. Angel wing is caused by a diet high in calories, and low in vitamins D, E, and Manganese—in other words, exactly the result of an all white bread diet. The condition causes the bird's wings to point out laterally instead of resting against the body and usually renders them unable to fly. When ducks can't fly, they eventually die, but not before much suffering. Still not convinced? Bread intended for the ducks also pollutes waterways by promoting algal blooms, which attract rats and vermin. Scientists have asked the duck-loving public to feed the ducks healthier options like frozen peas or sweetcorn. And to exercise portion control. It seems humans are no better at healthfully feeding birds in the park than we are at healthfully feeding ourselves!

It was recently estimated that in England and Wales alone, six million loaves of bread are fed to ducks every year. Nutritionists don't have much nice to say about humans eating bread—particularly of the white variety—and the same goes for ducks. It is packed with empty calories and acts like junk food for ducks. They eventually get addicted to it, and then have little interest in eating anything else. This not only causes malnourishment, but can also lead to a horrible and incurable condition called angel wing. Angel wing is caused by a diet high in calories, and low in vitamins D, E, and Manganese—in other words, exactly the result of an all white bread diet. The condition causes the bird's wings to point out laterally instead of resting against the body and usually renders them unable to fly. When ducks can't fly, they eventually die, but not before much suffering. Still not convinced? Bread intended for the ducks also pollutes waterways by promoting algal blooms, which attract rats and vermin. Scientists have asked the duck-loving public to feed the ducks healthier options like frozen peas or sweetcorn. And to exercise portion control. It seems humans are no better at healthfully feeding birds in the park than we are at healthfully feeding ourselves!

Kids these days couldn't tell a blizzard from a flurry. Survivors of the Great Blizzard of 1888, the topic of today's Blizzard Themed Thursday, would've said something along that line. The storm blanketed New York City in 55 inches of snow that was then piled two stories high by 75-mile-per-hour winds. More than 400 people died, including Senator Roscoe Conkling, while others were pulled out of the snow before it could swallow them like quicksand. Trains froze to their tracks, with 15,000 people marooned inside of them. And since most telegraph lines, water mains, and gas pipes were strung above ground, they were destroyed by the blustery gales. Stubborn New Yorkers resorted to building fires on street corners. Wall Street closed for three straight days, and P.T. Barnum found himself entertaining folks trapped inside Madison Square Garden. But the Big Apple toughed it out; New Yorkers put on their snow boots and shoveled their way to work. And after the whiteout, city officials invested in underground subway systems, piping, and wiring. Life resumed. Years passed. Then, in 1929, a group of proud survivors formed an exclusive club: the "Blizzard Men of '88." The club's members gathered every year to share their harrowing tales of '88—whether they were true or not. Members recalled treacherous traversals of the frozen East Brooklyn River, avoiding ice floes as if it were Antarctica, or a stranger's hand reaching through feet of snow to hoist them from an icy demise. Members also wrote odes to the storm like this one: "Our blizzard sure must take the prize / In spite of all the yarns and lies / Our snow was nearly two feet deep / Piled up and down in one big heap." Actually, I'm not sure people knew how to brag back then...

Kids these days couldn't tell a blizzard from a flurry. Survivors of the Great Blizzard of 1888, the topic of today's Blizzard Themed Thursday, would've said something along that line. The storm blanketed New York City in 55 inches of snow that was then piled two stories high by 75-mile-per-hour winds. More than 400 people died, including Senator Roscoe Conkling, while others were pulled out of the snow before it could swallow them like quicksand. Trains froze to their tracks, with 15,000 people marooned inside of them. And since most telegraph lines, water mains, and gas pipes were strung above ground, they were destroyed by the blustery gales. Stubborn New Yorkers resorted to building fires on street corners. Wall Street closed for three straight days, and P.T. Barnum found himself entertaining folks trapped inside Madison Square Garden. But the Big Apple toughed it out; New Yorkers put on their snow boots and shoveled their way to work. And after the whiteout, city officials invested in underground subway systems, piping, and wiring. Life resumed. Years passed. Then, in 1929, a group of proud survivors formed an exclusive club: the "Blizzard Men of '88." The club's members gathered every year to share their harrowing tales of '88—whether they were true or not. Members recalled treacherous traversals of the frozen East Brooklyn River, avoiding ice floes as if it were Antarctica, or a stranger's hand reaching through feet of snow to hoist them from an icy demise. Members also wrote odes to the storm like this one: "Our blizzard sure must take the prize / In spite of all the yarns and lies / Our snow was nearly two feet deep / Piled up and down in one big heap." Actually, I'm not sure people knew how to brag back then...

Beware those acrylic gales! For artist Nathan Carter, those blustery brushstrokes are just the latest way to reveal the perilous state of human infrastructure. The painting, which bears the unwieldy titled A vicious outbreak of super-cyclonic polar weather caused blizzard conditions and prompted an emergency white-out advisory, contains buildings that border on juvenility, each appearing as flimsy as Jenga towers. These paintings are meant to inspire both awe and uneasiness in regards to our dependency on highly-urbanized environs and the delicate care we take to conserve them. To hammer down his point, Carter draws inspiration from tangled graphics of mass transit and technical schematics, and builds sculptors from small "street treasures" he finds strewn about Brooklyn. But Carter is anything but a downer; his allegorical artworks of man versus nature gleam with flecks of warm colors, and his sinuous brushstrokes give jovial character to both buildings and Mother Nature. Modern infrastructure may be unsettling at times—but hey, it sure is warm and inviting!

Below: a closeup of Vicious, as well as a few other Carter paintings with unutterable titles.

Beware those acrylic gales! For artist Nathan Carter, those blustery brushstrokes are just the latest way to reveal the perilous state of human infrastructure. The painting, which bears the unwieldy titled A vicious outbreak of super-cyclonic polar weather caused blizzard conditions and prompted an emergency white-out advisory, contains buildings that border on juvenility, each appearing as flimsy as Jenga towers. These paintings are meant to inspire both awe and uneasiness in regards to our dependency on highly-urbanized environs and the delicate care we take to conserve them. To hammer down his point, Carter draws inspiration from tangled graphics of mass transit and technical schematics, and builds sculptors from small "street treasures" he finds strewn about Brooklyn. But Carter is anything but a downer; his allegorical artworks of man versus nature gleam with flecks of warm colors, and his sinuous brushstrokes give jovial character to both buildings and Mother Nature. Modern infrastructure may be unsettling at times—but hey, it sure is warm and inviting!

Below: a closeup of Vicious, as well as a few other Carter paintings with unutterable titles.

Alright stop, deliberate a decision, Ice is back with a brand new conviction. Okay, so rapper Vanilla Ice makes for easy joke fodder, but the legacy of Ice Ice Baby, off the 1989 album Hooked, remains undeniable. Allegedly written by Ice, K. Kennedy, and DJ Earthquake, the track's hook samples the bassline from Queen and David Bowie's legendary song Under Pressure (1981). Ice initially denied the connection, though the original songwriters took notice when Ice became the first hip-hop record to top the Billboard Hot 100, quickly selling seven million records; in a watershed plagiarism case regarding hip-hop samples, Bowie and Queen received songwriting credit and royalties. Meanwhile, Vanilla's viral popularity spurred journalists to investigate his "gangster" background: that of Robert Van Winkle from Dallas, Texas suburbia. Lambasted as the appropriating "Elvis of rap," Vanilla was then purportedly held out a window by producer Suge Knight, who alleged Ice had been stolen from one of his associates. (Bear with us.) After strong-arming his cut, Knight used it to launch Death Row Records, which produced rap legends Tupac Shakur and Snoop Dogg, among others. Yup—Vanilla nice.

Alright stop, deliberate a decision, Ice is back with a brand new conviction. Okay, so rapper Vanilla Ice makes for easy joke fodder, but the legacy of Ice Ice Baby, off the 1989 album Hooked, remains undeniable. Allegedly written by Ice, K. Kennedy, and DJ Earthquake, the track's hook samples the bassline from Queen and David Bowie's legendary song Under Pressure (1981). Ice initially denied the connection, though the original songwriters took notice when Ice became the first hip-hop record to top the Billboard Hot 100, quickly selling seven million records; in a watershed plagiarism case regarding hip-hop samples, Bowie and Queen received songwriting credit and royalties. Meanwhile, Vanilla's viral popularity spurred journalists to investigate his "gangster" background: that of Robert Van Winkle from Dallas, Texas suburbia. Lambasted as the appropriating "Elvis of rap," Vanilla was then purportedly held out a window by producer Suge Knight, who alleged Ice had been stolen from one of his associates. (Bear with us.) After strong-arming his cut, Knight used it to launch Death Row Records, which produced rap legends Tupac Shakur and Snoop Dogg, among others. Yup—Vanilla nice.

Man's best friend has accompanied him to some far-flung places, enduring everything from starvation to frostbite. These huskies accompanied the Australasian Antarctic Expedition: a group of adventurers and scientists who sought to map and catalog geological formations on the barren continent between the years of 1911 and 1914. During the expedition's three-year, blizzard-laden tenure, a pack of dogs embarked with a foolhardy sledging team, consisting of Lieutenant Belgrave Ninnis, geologist Douglas Mawson, and explorer Xavier Mertz, into the thick of the white expanse, while the rest of the Australasians remained. Mired in perilous conditions, many of the dogs were lost when they fell into an icy crevasse alongside Ninnis; the rest perished as Mawson and Mertz labored back to camp. Merz died, as well, but Mawson persevered for 30 days and reached safety with all his geological specimens in tow, even after falling into a crevasse himself. At great cost, he managed to contribute more geographical knowledge than any other researcher of Antarctica's Heroic Age of exploration, and was knighted for his icy nerves and unflagging commitment to science. Unfortunately, the trusty pups received no such honor for their sacrifice.

Below: more photos of the expedition, including that of a pup named Blizzard, meteorologist C.t. Madigan peering through ice, and a cavern in an ice wall approximate to Commonwealth Bay.

Man's best friend has accompanied him to some far-flung places, enduring everything from starvation to frostbite. These huskies accompanied the Australasian Antarctic Expedition: a group of adventurers and scientists who sought to map and catalog geological formations on the barren continent between the years of 1911 and 1914. During the expedition's three-year, blizzard-laden tenure, a pack of dogs embarked with a foolhardy sledging team, consisting of Lieutenant Belgrave Ninnis, geologist Douglas Mawson, and explorer Xavier Mertz, into the thick of the white expanse, while the rest of the Australasians remained. Mired in perilous conditions, many of the dogs were lost when they fell into an icy crevasse alongside Ninnis; the rest perished as Mawson and Mertz labored back to camp. Merz died, as well, but Mawson persevered for 30 days and reached safety with all his geological specimens in tow, even after falling into a crevasse himself. At great cost, he managed to contribute more geographical knowledge than any other researcher of Antarctica's Heroic Age of exploration, and was knighted for his icy nerves and unflagging commitment to science. Unfortunately, the trusty pups received no such honor for their sacrifice.

Below: more photos of the expedition, including that of a pup named Blizzard, meteorologist C.t. Madigan peering through ice, and a cavern in an ice wall approximate to Commonwealth Bay.

Does beauty in nature exist for its own sake? Richard Prum, an evolutionary ornithologist at Yale, thinks so. Prum, whose book The Evolution of Beauty was recently nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, has spent his career trying to shed light on one of Charles Darwin's forgotten theories. Called sexual selection, it attempts to explain why nature has evolved so many ornamental features that carry no evolutionary advantages—in fact they decrease a species' chances of survival. Darwin believed that many species developed "conspicuous, metabolically costly and physically burdensome" ornaments merely to please. Think of the peacock's ridiculously long and iridescent feathers, the bright throats of anole lizards, or the predator-attracting color scheme of the scarlet macaw. Darwin saw these ornaments as counter-examples to natural selection. Instead, he believed they evolved through a separate sexual selection process dependent on the preferences of individuals. Darwin posited that if a single female chose a mate based on her arbitrary preference for a beautiful feature, over time that feature could become dominant. As follows: when the female mated with the male exhibiting that trait, the offspring would inherit both the mother's preference and the father's characteristic. Over many generations, this could create "runaway evolution" causing the trait to get more and more exaggerated—even at the expense of the male's survival. Darwin believed this was all caused by a species' own definition of beauty. Not surprisingly, Darwin's contemporaries couldn't reconcile the arbitrary nature of his sexual selection theory with the brutal consequences of his natural selection theory. So history largely forgot about the former; until Prum began re-popularizing the idea in the 1980s. Prum's conclusion: "Birds are beautiful because they are beautiful to themselves." Cheers to that!

Does beauty in nature exist for its own sake? Richard Prum, an evolutionary ornithologist at Yale, thinks so. Prum, whose book The Evolution of Beauty was recently nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, has spent his career trying to shed light on one of Charles Darwin's forgotten theories. Called sexual selection, it attempts to explain why nature has evolved so many ornamental features that carry no evolutionary advantages—in fact they decrease a species' chances of survival. Darwin believed that many species developed "conspicuous, metabolically costly and physically burdensome" ornaments merely to please. Think of the peacock's ridiculously long and iridescent feathers, the bright throats of anole lizards, or the predator-attracting color scheme of the scarlet macaw. Darwin saw these ornaments as counter-examples to natural selection. Instead, he believed they evolved through a separate sexual selection process dependent on the preferences of individuals. Darwin posited that if a single female chose a mate based on her arbitrary preference for a beautiful feature, over time that feature could become dominant. As follows: when the female mated with the male exhibiting that trait, the offspring would inherit both the mother's preference and the father's characteristic. Over many generations, this could create "runaway evolution" causing the trait to get more and more exaggerated—even at the expense of the male's survival. Darwin believed this was all caused by a species' own definition of beauty. Not surprisingly, Darwin's contemporaries couldn't reconcile the arbitrary nature of his sexual selection theory with the brutal consequences of his natural selection theory. So history largely forgot about the former; until Prum began re-popularizing the idea in the 1980s. Prum's conclusion: "Birds are beautiful because they are beautiful to themselves." Cheers to that!

Always bet on the self-proclaimed "dark horse." At this time in 1988, Beatles singer-songwriter and guitarist George Harrison topped the American charts with his elated tune Got My Mind Set on You, making him the last of the solo Fab Four to do so. After the band's breakup in 1970, each Beatle raced off in different directions: Paul McCartney cavorting around with Band on the Run; Lennon, mired in drug abuse, pouring his soul into Imagine; and Ringo… well, being Ringo. Harrison, the "Quiet One" of the four, retreated into gentle folk music, composing My Sweet Lord and Give Me Peace on Earth. It was odd then that Harrison, and in a sense, the Beatles, would go out in the '80s with Got My Mind Set on You: a feel-good tune with wide appeal written by ELO's Jeff Lynne. Beginning with Harrison's declaration of enamorment, stated several times over in suspense, the song launches into a springy rhythm while Harrison continues canting his love, carrying each chorus with his energy, inflection, and phrasing. An artifact of the '80s, Mind revealed an uncharacteristically ecstatic Harrison and solidified his legacy as the most mystifying, and inscrutable, of the Fab Four.

Always bet on the self-proclaimed "dark horse." At this time in 1988, Beatles singer-songwriter and guitarist George Harrison topped the American charts with his elated tune Got My Mind Set on You, making him the last of the solo Fab Four to do so. After the band's breakup in 1970, each Beatle raced off in different directions: Paul McCartney cavorting around with Band on the Run; Lennon, mired in drug abuse, pouring his soul into Imagine; and Ringo… well, being Ringo. Harrison, the "Quiet One" of the four, retreated into gentle folk music, composing My Sweet Lord and Give Me Peace on Earth. It was odd then that Harrison, and in a sense, the Beatles, would go out in the '80s with Got My Mind Set on You: a feel-good tune with wide appeal written by ELO's Jeff Lynne. Beginning with Harrison's declaration of enamorment, stated several times over in suspense, the song launches into a springy rhythm while Harrison continues canting his love, carrying each chorus with his energy, inflection, and phrasing. An artifact of the '80s, Mind revealed an uncharacteristically ecstatic Harrison and solidified his legacy as the most mystifying, and inscrutable, of the Fab Four.

Check out Sol in the sky with diamonds! This photo, taken by Czech astrophotographer Petr Horálek, recently won the grand prize in this year's Royal Society Publishing Photography Competition. Beautiful, if not menacing, Three diamonds in the sky shows the sun and moon engaged in a hybrid eclipse. Exceedingly rare, these appear like total eclipses in some parts of the world, but annular, or incomplete in others. Luckily for Horálek, the photographer happened to be in Pakwero, Uganda, which was treated to a mixture of the two types—and also an extraordinary three-part "diamond ring" (the bright bursts of light). The term refers to when solar flares from the sun's photosphere peek out from behind the moon's shadow; the hairline band of the sun's corona, paired with a solar flare, appear like rings of fire in the sky. Three diamonds was up against some beautiful and downright captivating scenery this year, but the gem nevertheless ran rings around the competition!

Below: more photos from the competition, including Baby on board by Anton Sorokin, Courting Royals: two Royal Terns in courtship display by Kristian Bell, and Waxwing and Rowan berries in the snow by Alwin Hardenbol.

Check out Sol in the sky with diamonds! This photo, taken by Czech astrophotographer Petr Horálek, recently won the grand prize in this year's Royal Society Publishing Photography Competition. Beautiful, if not menacing, Three diamonds in the sky shows the sun and moon engaged in a hybrid eclipse. Exceedingly rare, these appear like total eclipses in some parts of the world, but annular, or incomplete in others. Luckily for Horálek, the photographer happened to be in Pakwero, Uganda, which was treated to a mixture of the two types—and also an extraordinary three-part "diamond ring" (the bright bursts of light). The term refers to when solar flares from the sun's photosphere peek out from behind the moon's shadow; the hairline band of the sun's corona, paired with a solar flare, appear like rings of fire in the sky. Three diamonds was up against some beautiful and downright captivating scenery this year, but the gem nevertheless ran rings around the competition!

Below: more photos from the competition, including Baby on board by Anton Sorokin, Courting Royals: two Royal Terns in courtship display by Kristian Bell, and Waxwing and Rowan berries in the snow by Alwin Hardenbol.

If only we'd been allowed to draw on the walls to our heart's content as children, we might have ended up like New York artist Shantell Martin. For the above Charge Your Self mural at the Chandran Gallery, Martin didn't just draw outside of the boxed frames on the walls; she demystified her improvisational creative process with an interactive experience for gallery attendees. As Martin took her trademark wide-tipped black ink pen to the walls and floors of the Chandran, the question "Who Are You?" served as a central jumping-off point where lines and words flowed from her pen. Among the many intertwined faces are the lines "don't hide in the corner" scribbled in the far right corner of the wall, and the mantra-like "why use your voice, why know your voice, why share your voice… use your magic, create, share give." The artist—who has worked with Tiffany & Co., 1800 Tequila, and Kendrick Lamar for American Express—is a new hip voice in the arts. Martin's whimsical creations, philosophical questions about existence and identity, and her willingness to bring people together through her artistic process are all reasons we'll be looking out for her work as she continues to turn walls into wondrous drawings.

If only we'd been allowed to draw on the walls to our heart's content as children, we might have ended up like New York artist Shantell Martin. For the above Charge Your Self mural at the Chandran Gallery, Martin didn't just draw outside of the boxed frames on the walls; she demystified her improvisational creative process with an interactive experience for gallery attendees. As Martin took her trademark wide-tipped black ink pen to the walls and floors of the Chandran, the question "Who Are You?" served as a central jumping-off point where lines and words flowed from her pen. Among the many intertwined faces are the lines "don't hide in the corner" scribbled in the far right corner of the wall, and the mantra-like "why use your voice, why know your voice, why share your voice… use your magic, create, share give." The artist—who has worked with Tiffany & Co., 1800 Tequila, and Kendrick Lamar for American Express—is a new hip voice in the arts. Martin's whimsical creations, philosophical questions about existence and identity, and her willingness to bring people together through her artistic process are all reasons we'll be looking out for her work as she continues to turn walls into wondrous drawings.

In 2016 and 2017, Australia's Great Barrier Reef experienced back-to-back years of "marine heat waves." These periods of elevated sea temperatures caused almost one-third of the reef's coral to die. This is because polyps on the coral respond to the heat by expelling the colorful algae that not only make the reef so beautiful but also provide its key nourishment. Without the energy-creating photosynthesis of the algae, the coral often dies out completely. This process, called bleaching, has happened to more than 2,900 reefs in the Great Barrier Reef system. But marine biologists from across the world are collaborating on a project that might hold some hope. 30 miles off the coast of Queensland, Australia, they have transplanted hundreds of nursery-grown coral fragments onto the Reef. Twelve species were chosen to test how each kind of coral can handle transplanting. If so, this artificial propagation and "outplanting" of coral could help the reef's natural reproduction processes kick into action. Let's hope this Rogaine of the sea works!

In 2016 and 2017, Australia's Great Barrier Reef experienced back-to-back years of "marine heat waves." These periods of elevated sea temperatures caused almost one-third of the reef's coral to die. This is because polyps on the coral respond to the heat by expelling the colorful algae that not only make the reef so beautiful but also provide its key nourishment. Without the energy-creating photosynthesis of the algae, the coral often dies out completely. This process, called bleaching, has happened to more than 2,900 reefs in the Great Barrier Reef system. But marine biologists from across the world are collaborating on a project that might hold some hope. 30 miles off the coast of Queensland, Australia, they have transplanted hundreds of nursery-grown coral fragments onto the Reef. Twelve species were chosen to test how each kind of coral can handle transplanting. If so, this artificial propagation and "outplanting" of coral could help the reef's natural reproduction processes kick into action. Let's hope this Rogaine of the sea works!

It isn't fair that these lovebirds get to escape winter while the rest of us bundle for warmth! But don't get angry at them; it was montage artist Tim Klein who meshed the summering kiddos with the cold. The Vancouver-based artist created Thaw (Warm Breath on a Winter Window) by combining two sister puzzles of similar scenes, each a photograph taken from commercial painter Paul Detlefsen's Four Seasons series. The puzzles' stone bridges match up perfectly, as do their chapels. At the center of the montage, the circular implant appears like a warm breath on a fogged window: a magical glimpse of summer appearing where the glass has thawed. Klein, knowing that jigsaw puzzle manufacturers often reuse cut patterns for different puzzles, scours thrift shops and garage sales to find two paperboards that correspond. Thaw was just another whimsical discovery for the artist, who fancies himself "an archaeologist unearthing a hidden artifact." Now, if only he could unearth all this frost and cast out winter entirely!

Below: more of Klein's wacky mashups, including Iron Horse, King Of The Road, and The Mercy-Go-Round.

It isn't fair that these lovebirds get to escape winter while the rest of us bundle for warmth! But don't get angry at them; it was montage artist Tim Klein who meshed the summering kiddos with the cold. The Vancouver-based artist created Thaw (Warm Breath on a Winter Window) by combining two sister puzzles of similar scenes, each a photograph taken from commercial painter Paul Detlefsen's Four Seasons series. The puzzles' stone bridges match up perfectly, as do their chapels. At the center of the montage, the circular implant appears like a warm breath on a fogged window: a magical glimpse of summer appearing where the glass has thawed. Klein, knowing that jigsaw puzzle manufacturers often reuse cut patterns for different puzzles, scours thrift shops and garage sales to find two paperboards that correspond. Thaw was just another whimsical discovery for the artist, who fancies himself "an archaeologist unearthing a hidden artifact." Now, if only he could unearth all this frost and cast out winter entirely!

Below: more of Klein's wacky mashups, including Iron Horse, King Of The Road, and The Mercy-Go-Round.

From the outset, Ambrose Akinmusire's A Blooming Bloodfruit in a Hoodie doesn't even sound like a jazz recording. The first few minutes are filled with the Mivos Quartet's symphonic strings and timpani drums, which eventually give way to drumming and psychedelic lyrics by rapper Kool A.D. Rest assured though, Akinmusire is one of Jazz's most exciting young voices, and his Origami Harvest was lauded by critics as one of the best releases from 2018. The Oakland, California-born artist toured the world as a bright-eyed 19-year old music student in Steve Coleman's Five Elements; from there, his trumpet talents have landed him in the company of Vijay Iyer, Esperanza Spalding, and Kendrick Lamar. In his own band, Akinmusire embraces his disparate influences in Blooming Bloodfruit, a blend of rap, classical, and jazz that takes on a melancholy arrangement packaged with references to Trayvon Martin and the Black Lives Matter movement. For an artist who seems to draw inspiration from infinite sources, we can be sure Akinmusire's prestigious place in contemporary jazz music will only become more experimental and awe-inspiring in the future.

From the outset, Ambrose Akinmusire's A Blooming Bloodfruit in a Hoodie doesn't even sound like a jazz recording. The first few minutes are filled with the Mivos Quartet's symphonic strings and timpani drums, which eventually give way to drumming and psychedelic lyrics by rapper Kool A.D. Rest assured though, Akinmusire is one of Jazz's most exciting young voices, and his Origami Harvest was lauded by critics as one of the best releases from 2018. The Oakland, California-born artist toured the world as a bright-eyed 19-year old music student in Steve Coleman's Five Elements; from there, his trumpet talents have landed him in the company of Vijay Iyer, Esperanza Spalding, and Kendrick Lamar. In his own band, Akinmusire embraces his disparate influences in Blooming Bloodfruit, a blend of rap, classical, and jazz that takes on a melancholy arrangement packaged with references to Trayvon Martin and the Black Lives Matter movement. For an artist who seems to draw inspiration from infinite sources, we can be sure Akinmusire's prestigious place in contemporary jazz music will only become more experimental and awe-inspiring in the future.

Apparently, we're not the only ones who think this image of the Dnieper River looks like a swirly work of art. European Space Agency astronaut Thomas Pesquet took the above image above the International Space Station last year saying: "Winter landscapes are also magical from the International Space Station: this river north of Kiev reminds me of a Hokusai painting." The ISS hovers about 200 miles above the Earth, while the Dnieper flows from central Russia through Belarus, to Ukraine, and into the Black Sea. It's Europe's third longest river at 1,420 miles in length, with a name that comes from an Iranian language meaning "the river on the far side." While Pesquet's view was recently highlighted by NASA, the Dnieper's beauty has served as the face of an ancient Greek coin from the third-century B.C.E. For centuries, the waters served as trade routes for Vikings, Slavs, and Byzantines; and today it remains a vital part of Ukraine's transportation, hydroelectric power system, and economy. For the ISS, it's also a view of the delicate ecosystems at play in our big, beautiful world.

Apparently, we're not the only ones who think this image of the Dnieper River looks like a swirly work of art. European Space Agency astronaut Thomas Pesquet took the above image above the International Space Station last year saying: "Winter landscapes are also magical from the International Space Station: this river north of Kiev reminds me of a Hokusai painting." The ISS hovers about 200 miles above the Earth, while the Dnieper flows from central Russia through Belarus, to Ukraine, and into the Black Sea. It's Europe's third longest river at 1,420 miles in length, with a name that comes from an Iranian language meaning "the river on the far side." While Pesquet's view was recently highlighted by NASA, the Dnieper's beauty has served as the face of an ancient Greek coin from the third-century B.C.E. For centuries, the waters served as trade routes for Vikings, Slavs, and Byzantines; and today it remains a vital part of Ukraine's transportation, hydroelectric power system, and economy. For the ISS, it's also a view of the delicate ecosystems at play in our big, beautiful world.

Hacking has been around longer than you think. Long before Wikileaks and Russian-hacked email servers and phishing attacks, the term "hacking" described fiddling with electronics or radios in ways not prescribed by the instructions. The first documented use of the term was in the minutes of a 1955 meeting of the MIT Tech Model Railroad Club: "anyone working or hacking on the electrical system, turn the power off to avoid fuse blowing."

But the idea of breaking into technological systems dates back much further. In 1903, a demonstration of Guglielmo Marconi's "wireless" (telegraph) machine was hacked by a competitor. Marconi, who essentially invented radio and won the 1909 Nobel Prize in Physics, was demonstrating his new telegraph machine at London's Royal Institution. The physicist John Fleming was on stage, about to receive a Morse code message sent by Marconi himself—from a clifftop station in Cornwall, 300 miles away. Before Fleming could begin his demonstration, as if by magic, the telegraph machine started tapping out a message in Morse code. It said: "'Rats rats rats rats, there was a young fellow of Italy, who diddled the public quite prettily." Marconi's telegraph had been hacked! The man behind the mischief was Nevil Maskelyne, a London magician hired by Marconi's rival the Eastern Telegraph Company, to thwart the demonstration. Maskelyne had placed receivers throughout London which allowed him to intercept Marconi's transmissions without knowing their frequency. The company and Maskelyne later said they were simply alerting the public to Marconi's false claims that telegraphs were completely private. Hmm, haven't I heard this somewhere before? A publicity stunt that exposes other people's private information and threatens national security, performed by a supposedly humble public servant. Who knew Assange was just a modern day Maskelyne?

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We have a Streak Week winner for Week #11: Jim R. Way to go, Jim! Happy streaking everybody!
--jsk